


never too good for you, sister

by lizardcookie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Featuring the Ambivalent and Confusing Evans Sisters Relationship, Smoking, also featuring james thinking he's smooth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-28 13:37:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7642732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizardcookie/pseuds/lizardcookie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lily Evans and Petunia Evans-- now Dursley, Lily corrects herself-- have their last heart to heart, if you could even call it that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	never too good for you, sister

“You shouldn’t smoke, you know. It ages you.”  
  
Lily paused her drag, taking enough time to hide her surprise at the fact that Petunia Evans-- Dursley, now, as of roughly an hour ago-- had managed to find her alone in the back alley of the wedding venue, large pastry wedding dress and all. When Lily didn’t answer her sister, Petunia held out her hand and snapped her thumb impatiently.   
  
“Don’t be rude, Lily. Or are you too good to spare a cig?”   
  
“Oh, I’m never too good for my big sister,” Lily rebuked coolly, using her spare hand to dig in her shoulder purse for her pack, fingers brushing past her wand that lay inside. James had withdrawn himself to mirror Sirius about some of the absurdities he’d already been witness to at the wedding ceremony alone, what with Vernon’s sister Marge manhandling him about his apparently scandalously tight Muggle suit in the church and the amount of real cars he’d been able to see up close. Lily decided that indulging herself with a smoke now would prevent the hell of the wedding reception from getting to her later, and now with Petunia waiting impatiently for Lily to light her cigarette with the butt of her own, Lily was grateful she didn’t opt for the joint also resting rolled and ready to go in her bag.

“You shouldn’t smoke, you know,” Lily parrotted back to Petunia when her sister took her own slow inhale, the ghost of a playful smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “It ages you.”   
  
Petunia opened one eye at Lily, almost in boredom. “I just got married. I don’t need any help being aged.”   
  
“S’pose you’re right,” Lily and following Petunia’s lead, she opted to look at everything in the alley but her sister in that stark white gown. She broke the silence after just a few heavy moments between them. “Beautiful ceremony, Petunia. Really.”   
  
“Don’t patronize me,” Petunia snapped, her eyes flaring as she shook off a couple flakes of ash. “The florist has obviously never thought to attempt color coordination in his life, and the organist was off tempo for the whole processional.”   
  
“Well, you seemed pretty happy,” Lily pressed on, then decided that now was as good of a time as any to be bold with her sister. “You are happy, right?”   
  
“If I wasn’t, do you really think I’d be wearing this monstrosity?”

Petunia gestured to the large sleeves draped from her shoulders and to the tacky tool spooled around her waist. Her nose scrunched up in distaste. “Marge loved it, and so did Vernon’s mother, and she payed for it so I really didn’t have much choice in the matter,” she admitted begrudgingly, defensively. “But I’m here and I’m married to a good man and I’m happy. Don’t think so little of me to believe anything less.”  
  
“Alright, alright,” Lily held her hands up in surrender, ready to drop the subject. This wasn’t exactly the peaceful break she’d been searching for-- when was the last time she and Petunia had spoken more than a couple of words to each other? Standing next to Petunia in her distinctly bridal gown, contrasting with Lily’s own distinctly _not_ bridesmaid’s dress, felt a bit like rubbing salt on a wound whose existence she was vehemently trying to deny. Lily took another slow drag before Lily opened her mouth again. “I was genuinely curious. No need to _freak_ like that.”  
  
If Petunia noticed Lily’s word choice, she didn’t comment. Instead, she eyed Lily’s thin pink dress and lack of winter coat with some weariness before her gaze flicked down and back up to notice Lily shift her weight from her right foot once again, leaning on the door frame.   
  
“So I’ve been in heels since the crack of dawn, which explains _my_ limp. What explains yours?”  
  
“Excuse me?” Lily’s hand flew up, tucking her hair behind her left ear. Ah, the same old familiar tell. Petunia has known that move since before Lily could string more than four words together.   
  
“At first I thought you just couldn’t help yourself from hanging off that boy, but then I saw you walk out here without him, and now you’re favoring one leg. Spill.”  
  
“It’s nothing. I just fell of my broom,” Lily consoled Petunia. “You always were saying that they were unnatural atrocities. Guess I got what I deserved, didn’t I?”  
  
“You were always a shit liar.”  
  
Lily threw her cigarette on the ground, stamping it out. “You don’t have to pretend to care. I know you stopped doing that a long time ago.”  
  
“I’m not pretending.” Petunia’s unfinished cigarette joined Lily’s on the ground, and she grabbed Lily’s arm in a vice like grip that surprised the both of them. “What happened?”

There was a moment where Lily understood her options. She could lie, as she always did with her family. Like how she lied to her mother about school going well, and how she lied to her family about the real reason she stopped hanging out with Severus (though they didn’t need much of an explanation, having never liked him in the first place). How she lied to Petunia about the war when Petunia cleaned her room one afternoon last summer and saw that morning’s copy of _The Daily Prophet_ resting open on her bed. She could lie, as she’d always done, and things would stay the same as they’ve always been between them.  
  
Or she could tell the truth. Afterall, didn’t Petunia deserve as much? Their relationship, regardless of its current state of ambivalence lined with loathing, had once been something that deserved the truth. Call her a sentimental fool for the thought, but Lily did feel like she owed Petunia something. A gesture of goodwill, a remnant of the past gone by and forgotten.

There was a separate part of her, persistent and sullen, that knew another truth. That this could be the last time she saw Petunia. After all, time left at Hogwarts was running thin. She’d join the resistance, whatever organization they may be, and hide away from Muggle society just as her mother always feared she would. She’d fight, and then what? What would be left of Lily Evans after the war?

Someone needed to know. Their mother was too emotionally unstable after their father’s death, but Petunia? Petunia could know. And it could be one less lie between them, one less brick in the wall that separates them from being the sisters-- the _best friends_ \-- they used to be. Petunia could know, and someone of her old life would understand the trouble she’s found herself in her current one.   
  
Lily ran her hand through her loose hair (and tried not to think of what James would say if he saw that she picked up his nervous tick) as she took a step into the unknown with her lip between her teeth before she admitted her more gruesome truth, quietly. “Slytherins. Kids at school. Got caught in the wrong place at the wrong time alone and had to spend a day in the Hospital Wing.”

Petunia nodded, her eyes steely. They’re odd sights, those grey eyes. Like what their father’s had been. She narrowed them in confusion, or criticism, Lily couldn’t tell. But she knew Petunia understood that she got the truth this time, and Lily could almost hear her make the connections in her own head. If there is one thing Lily understood about her sister, it’s that she always knew more than she let on. Petunia loved to collect knowledge and secrets and scandal-- she’d always known more than she’d admit.   
  
“Like that Snape boy? Are they horrible, like him?”   
  
A beat. “Yes. And more so.”

“And James? Is he like that?”  
  
Lily’s face broke into a gentle smile that reaches her eyes, and Petunia once again sees truth there. “No. Not at all. James is…. he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”   
  
They stare at each other a moment longer, and new sort of emotional rawness in the air that hadn’t been seen in years. But as quickly as it appeared, it left. Petunia dropped her arm and Lily dropped her gaze back to the ground, and she thought the subject dropped before --   
  
“He’s got a great arse. James.”   
  
Lily’s gentle smile cracked into something new and deviant, cutting into her cheeks. “You have no idea.”   
  
And Petunia, a bag full of surprises this evening, giggled. It wasn’t long before she composed her face back into it’s regular state of impassivity, but it had happened nonetheless and Lily felt a sort of peace establish itself over them. Sighing, Petunia stood a little straighter, adjusting her dress as she did. Again, she evaluated Lily through the corners of her eyes.   
  
“Don’t lean against the wall like that, Lily, you’ll spoil your dress. And give me another smoke.”   
  
Lily obligingly reached back into her purse, pulling out the pack to hand to her sister. Petunia took the whole thing and hurled it across the way right into a deep murky puddle, the little cardboard box landing with a pathetic splash. Lily stared indignantly at the sight, then turned on her sister with a snap.   
  
“What did you do that for? That’s a fresh pack!”   
  
“You didn’t learn anything from Dad, did you? Those’ll be the death of you.”   
  
Lily, a moment away from saying that she didn’t need any help finding her death in the midst of a war, or the fact that death by smoking is likely kinder than the one she’s trying to avoid, found the words dying on her tongue. She doesn’t have to ruin the moment, or the sentiment behind Petunia’s actions. Before she can say anything, however, the door to the alleyway swung open between them, trapping Petunia on the other side. A very frantic and ruffled James Potter appeared in the entrance, his shoulders falling in relief at the sight of Lily.   
  
“Fuck, Lily, I nearly thought to Summon you back in there. You’ve got to come quick. I think I’ve mucked it all up.” He stepped into the alley, grabbing Lily by the arms. “A McLaran isn’t the same as a Cleansweep, is it? That’s like a Muggle broom, right? And that horrid woman cornered me again, asking what my family does, and I couldn’t well say potions manufacturing, could I? And--  bleeding hell!”   
  
James jumped back the moment Petunia shoved the door back to reveal herself, an indignant expression shining across her features. James, much to Lily’s chargan, mirrored it in full.   
  
“Merlin and Morgana,” he breathed out as if he’d just seen the Dark Lord himself in the alley. “Warn a bloke next time, would you?”   
  
“Watch your language!” Petunia snapped back. “Normal people will hear you, and in case you forgot, this is in fact my wedding that you’ve supposedly mucked up in there. No one heard your blunder about brooms, did they?”   
  
James rubbed his neck in embarrassment, and Lily nearly smacked herself in the face in exasperation. “Er. Maybe just Vernon…”   
  
“Good lord, you are hopeless” she seethed, sweeping her dress up so she could storm back through the door into her reception, which she surely has been missed from. And as she took a final, wavering look at the couple in the alley, Lily swore, _swore_ , she saw Petunia’s eyes dart down to check out her boyfriend’s ass for herself, but the next moment Petunia was hitting them both with her usual horse-like grimace.   
  
“Don’t dawdle here. People will talk. You’ll make me look worse than _he_ already has,” Petunia warned as she reached her arm out to close the door, and Lily understood their moment to be completely gone, only to be forgotten or remembered however they like.   
  
“Tuney!” Lily called, grabbing her sister’s lacy wrist before it was out of reach. Petunia looked at her in detachment, which Lily suspected was more of a show for James than for her. Lily smiled, trying to convey as much genuineness as she could. “I’m happy for you. I really am.”   
  
“I know,” Petunia replied curtly, and later in life Lily imagines that Tuney smiles back and says, _I’m happy for you, too._

But she doesn’t. Petunia Dursley doesn’t say those words, and Lily knows the reason why. Petunia Dursley isn’t happy that Lily left her world, isn’t happy that Lily’s become someone she doesn’t know, isn’t happy that Lily’s in trouble and won’t run from it. She’s not happy for Lily because Lily isn’t coming back to her. But it doesn’t matter that Petunia isn’t happy for her. She could be happy enough for the both of them.

And when Petunia vanished through the doorway in shining, lacy, puffy white, Lily was left with the person whose presence in her heart had managed to mend the brokenness she’d felt after both her childhood best friends abandoned her. She felt James’ hand tug at her elbow, drawing her attention as Lily blinked away the lone tear that had managed to form. 

“Did I miss something important?” James asked, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He didn’t need to know much about Lily and Petunia to note the difference in their exchange from their past conversations.   
  
Lily shook her head. “Nothing big,” she lied, snaking her arms around his waist to distract him with a peck on the lips. “So. What did you tell Marge your family does?”   
  
“Nothing.”   
  
“You didn't tell her anything?”   
  
“No,” James shook his head, mortified. “I said we do _nothing_ . Which isn’t actually a lie, because Mum and Dad don’t work anymore. But then she and that colonel man started fussing about ‘jobless riff-raff’ and I made a run for it.”   
  
Lily laughed easily. “Well, she wasn’t wrong about the riff-raff part. You’ve got trouble written all over you, Potter.”   
  
“And it can be written all over you too, Evans, if you play your cards right.” As if to emphasize his point, James brought his lips to her own, slow and lingering. His hands gripped the dress fabric on her lower back tightly as she drew away and pulled a crooked grin at him.   
  
“Oh, I know this game.” Lily said evenly. “It's far too easy for me.”   
  
“We don’t have to play games, then.” His hands dropped a little further, and he brought his face to hover over hers, trademark smirk pulling at the corner of his lips and hazel eyes aglow with amusement. “You know, I kind of think Petunia was on to something when she told us to, what, _dawdle_ here for a while.”   
  
“Tell you what,” Lily pushed his face up with her finger squished against his nose, holding him away in place. “We go back in there and act like a nice, sane Muggle couple who know when to shut it about broom models and we can dawdle on the way back to my place all you want. Sound good?”   
  
“You’ve got yourself a deal.” James grinned cheekily down at her before escaping her hold and swooping down to give her another quick kiss. Pulling away, he threw his arm over her shoulder as she led them back inside to the reception.   
  
“Now you’ve got to explain how these Muggles have found a way to make _Aguamenti_ work with chocolate. They've got these fantastic little fountains at the dessert table...”   
  
Lily fought the urge to smack her forehead again.

The evening had not lived up to the ceremony they’d planned together years ago, with bouquets of lilies and petunias, their cat Jingle as ring bearer, or Lily as Maid of Honor. Petunia’s groom was leagues away from the prince she’d cooed about, though Lily’s own date was eerily similar in appearance to the raggedy straw doll she’d charmed together as a child, just as unkempt and just as magical. Well, Lily supposed that some details were bound to be lost over the years since then. But when she and James finally stumble out (get chased out, to be more accurate) of the reception hall complete with two bottles of champagne nicked from the bar, Lily actually can't imagine Petunia’s wedding going any other way.

**Author's Note:**

> Here's the thing about Petunia: she always knows more than she lets on. She has an outburst in Sorcerer's Stone, blaming Lily for her death. In OotP when Harry tells her Voldemort is back, she's the one who understands what that means. Petunia Dursley has always known more than she shows, and I think to her, Lily's death was the most selfish thing Lily has ever done. (Not to skirt around her abusing Harry, I just think she was a different person before he arrived).


End file.
